


Only Choose

by nostalgicmemories (Iolaire02)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinda dark?, POV First Person, more like suicide contemplation, please don't read if this in any way triggers you, the only thing in first person that i've written and not hated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26512618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolaire02/pseuds/nostalgicmemories





	Only Choose

The world is a complex thing, filled with people and animals and organisms, with buildings, with war and love and history and choices.

How many choices have been made in the past that have brought us to where we are today?

Hundreds? Thousands? More?

What is in a choice?

Choices are made when one arrives at a crossroads, or is presented with a situation which could have multiple outcomes, if only you choose.

We make choices every day of our lives, and some are simple or unimportant or appear insignificant in the long run. Some choices may change the world.

I was born. How many choices have been made to bring us to this point? How many choices were put into my birth, into my creation.

In this world which is rife with fear and confidence, with joy and anger, crime and laws, choices are everything.

Choices people have made - our ancestors have made - are what have developed this world we live in, and are what allow us to live in it.

Only choose.

What are we choosing? What are our options, what are the potential consequences, what would other people say, what do we want?

What will we choose?

There are two choices. Forward, or backward. Jump, or walk away. Die, or live.

This cliff I stand upon presents to me two choices. The first: I can walk forward, I can jump, and die when my body hits the rocky ground. The second: I can walk away from this sharp edge, I can step backwards, towards the forest and away from the precipice. I can live.

It is times such as this that I wish for wings, for the gift of flight. For if I did, I could jump, and I could fall far, fast, and hard. But then, when I extend my wings, the wind would push me back up, and I’d be able to run away. But I’d still be able to live.

I have a choice, a decision to make. I can choose to jump, knowing that as I fall towards the bone breaking ground, I will regret having chosen to do so. I know, am confident, that as soon as I took the step off the edge, as soon as my body began its descent, gaining speed each second, that I would regret it. And I know that I would be drowning in a consuming fear. I would be afraid of falling with nothing to catch me, I would be afraid of the momentary pain that I would experience as my body crashed upon the rocks, broken. I would be afraid of dying, too. Most of all, I would be afraid of what will happen after.

I have another choice, I know. I can take a step back from where my toes curl over the edge of the cliff. I can step towards the densely wooded forest that this great rock sticks out of, I can back away and live. I wouldn’t have to deal with all that fear and pain. I do know that I will regret not experiencing the exhilarating fall, the wind whipping my hair against my cheeks.

When one choice is as equally bad as the other, what do you choose? What should _I_?

I take a step back, I take a step forward. I sit on the ledge, dangling my feet high above the gray rocks that lay in front of a stormy ocean, white-caps crashing against the jagged rocks. I am caught between a rock and a hard place.

So.

I’ll decide another day.


End file.
